


Soft

by I_am_a_closet_fanfic_fiend



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky barnes/reader - Freeform, Bucky being a softie, Bucky/Reader - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, self doubt, vague mention of being shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:35:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29205969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_a_closet_fanfic_fiend/pseuds/I_am_a_closet_fanfic_fiend
Summary: Request: Hiiiii! I love your writing so much; I reread you work a lot because it makes me smile so much :) Anywho, could you write a drabble or something where the reader is kind of sad and beating herself up because people have pointed out that she’s really sarcastic/tough and she thinks she’s not “soft” enough to be loved with Bucky please? Thank you!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 55





	Soft

_“I like soft.”_

The words played over and over in your head as you pummeled the punching bag.

You weren’t supposed to hear it. You hadn’t been eavesdropping, you’d been sent to retrieve Steve for a briefing.

He, Bucky, and Sam were in the game room playing pool and had the door open. The three of them were incapable of talking quietly.

“Come on, man. Just admit it.”

“I’ve never denied it. I like soft. I’ve had enough harsh for a lifetime.”

With those words, your heart dropped into your stomach.

You were known for your acerbic wit and general rough around the edges exterior. And that was an accurate description of you… at least on the surface. But underneath it all, you were soft. You just only got that way with people you trusted.

You’d been hurt before and you’d learned that you were the type of person who loved hard. But not everyone was deserving of that love.

It was a difficult line to walk, and you often ended up coming off as harsh.

Bucky’s words struck at your heart. You had been in love with the former assassin for a while. Since he came to compound really. But clearly he’d never love you back. You’d just have to accept that. Or… you could try to be less… you.

That had been two weeks ago. You’d dialed back the sarcasm to near zero, but that left you feeling unable to communicate. So really it had been two weeks of you faking smiles and saying as little as possible.

For the most part, nobody seemed to notice. Which was fine. But what stung the most, was that the few people who did mention it, could only say how nice it was. “Refreshing change of pace” was even thrown around.

You punched harder.

“You’re dropping your left.”

You whirled at the unexpected voice, grunting when the bag knocked into you from behind. Turning to steady it, you avoided eye contact.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” he admitted rounding the bag, and holding it in place so you could continue to punch.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” you asked as you raised your hands, working a complicated combination of punches to distract yourself.

“You’ve been off for the past couple of weeks. I wanted to check on you.”

You shrugged in between jabs.

“All good. Just a little off balance after getting shot.”

“Did they shoot you in your funny bone?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you huffed, putting your hands on your hips.

“It means you’ve stopped making jokes over the past two weeks. And I want to know why.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I miss it,” he murmured quietly, suddenly shy.

“You what?”

“I miss your sarcasm. It was always something I looked forward to.”

“It was?”

“Yeah. So why did you stop?”

You bit your bottom lip, unsure how to respond.

“It’s stupid.”

“I doubt that,” he argued, with an encouraging smile. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I guess, I wanted to be a little softer. Especially around you. So I dialed back the sarcasm. And then people seemed to like it better that way, so I figured I should just keep my mouth shut.”

“Well, if anyone liked it better that way, it’s probably just because they’re jealous they aren’t as quick as you. Why did you feel like you need to be softer around me?”

“You’ve dealt with enough harshness for a lifetime.”

You hadn’t meant to quote him, but you knew he put two and two together.

“You heard us that day in the game room.”

You nodded.

“And you wanted to prove that to me?”

Another nod.

“Why did it matter to you?”

“Because I like you. And I thought maybe if I was softer, I’d stand a chance.”

Your voice barely rose above a whisper.

“Oh, doll. Don’t you know? I’ve liked you for a long time.”

“You have?”

“Mhmm. And one of the reasons, is because I know you’re soft,” he chuckled. “On the inside. You’re basically a marshmallow.”

“I resent that.”

“I don’t think you do. You’re soft with those you love and those who deserve it. I see the way you take care of people without ever saying a word. You leave Steve tea when he’s doing reports, and you always put a blanket on Sam when he conks out. You listen whenever we have something to say even if it takes us a lot of meandering to get it out. And you always have a joke at the right time, when we need to lighten up. You’re the perfect kind of soft. The kind of soft I love. Because it is covered by your tough exterior. I know how important armor is. And I know how hard it is to take it off. But you do with me and it’s the reason I fell in love with you.”

Tears welled in your eyes and you hurried to wipe them away. But Bucky beat you to it, cradling your face in his hands.

“Talk to me, doll.” 

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you too.”

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, and you weren’t surprised that his kiss was soft too.


End file.
